


one of those faces

by PumpkinDoodles



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Mistaken Identity, Neither of Them Realizes, they have a baby
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-24
Updated: 2020-02-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:34:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 15,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22394077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PumpkinDoodles/pseuds/PumpkinDoodles
Summary: Duchess007 asked: "I would LURVE a mutual pining Taserbones where fully-healed Brock is struggling to connect with Darcy because she’s still hung up on this scarred guy she had a one night stand with years ago, who she doesn’t realize was Brock."
Relationships: Darcy Lewis/Brock Rumlow
Comments: 365
Kudos: 871





	1. Andalusia

**Author's Note:**

  * For [duchess007](https://archiveofourown.org/users/duchess007/gifts).



> *I own nothing!

_Sometime in 2015…._

_Granada, Spain_

She’d ducked into this bar to have a little bit of wine, a snack, and text Jane. It was still too early for a regular bar crowd, but Darcy’s feet hurt from walking all over the Alhambra palaces and gardens and taking photos. She could rest and then find something else to do, she thought. Darcy was headed back to the bar when she literally tripped on the edge of someone’s barstool and _thwacked_ into the man sitting there. “Lo siento, lo siento,” she said, embarrassed.

“That’s all right, sweetheart,” the man said. He turned and his eyes widened in surprise--then he grinned at her. His scars twisted. “Well, hello,” he said.

“Hello,” she said back. 

“What, you don’t remember me?” he asked, looking pleased with himself. He was clearly American and trying to pick her up. _Right?_ “You want to sit down?” he asked. She sat down. “Your glass?” he said, gesturing to the one she'd left mostly empty. She didn’t recognize him at all. He had a good voice, though. Dark hair. Eyes the color of Spanish olives. Greenish brown. Pretty, she thought. 

“Uh-huh.” He slid it over. “Thank you. So, do you have a name I’d remember, friend?” Darcy said, smiling teasingly at him. 

“Sweetheart, it would compromise you to know,” he said, grinning again. It was almost a smirk.

“Uh-huh,” she said. “Is that code for ‘I have a wife’?” Darcy was on a brief vacation while Jane went to Asgard. She’d picked Andalusia because it looked beautiful in photos. Beautiful and warm. Only she hadn’t counted on how wistful it would be to be alone. She knew being in a relationship wouldn’t solve her problems--being on and off with Ian had taught her that--but she wished she was sharing this trip with someone.

“Nope,” he said, voice wry. “Just a lot of baggage.” He gestured to his scar-crossed face. 

“I wouldn’t say so,” she said, shaking her head.

“No?” he said. “Just for that, I’m getting you more wine. What is this?” He gestured to her glass.

“That is an Albariño,” Darcy said. 

“And we were more like acquaintances,” he said casually.

“Oh yeah?” she said, thinking _oh God, he’s a charming bullshitter._

“You might not have noticed me because you were working,” he said.

“Obviously, I missed out,” she said.

“I’m not going to hold it against you,” he said, in a frankly flirtatious voice.

“No?” she said archly.

“Do you like flamenco? I feel like you would like flamenco,” he said. 

“I do like flamenco,” she admitted. “But you need a partner for that.”

“You aren’t exactly alone,” he said, fingers brushing hers on the bar top.

“But I did forget to pack my finger cymbals,” Darcy said wryly. That made him laugh. 

“Come with me?” he said. “Tonight?”

“Okay,” she said. “Let’s go.” They wandered around the city. He took her to the Arab market. He flirted outrageously. Found any excuse to touch her. Told her that she was beautiful in English and Spanish. It was very romantic. Darcy was more than a little smitten. Then he took her to see zambra dancing in one of the caves in Sacromonte. They watched the dancers and he dodged her questions about where they’d met and what he really did. “You don’t want to tell me so I can find you later?” she asked. He grinned.

“Nothing would make me happier,” he said, then frowned. “But it would be bad for you, sweetheart.” Darcy frowned. 

“But we’ve got tonight?” she said. He looked at her.

“Yeah,” he said. “We’ve got tonight.” The zambra dancers were beautiful.

“Hey,” Darcy said, as they stepped out onto the street. He put his arm around her and nuzzled her forehead.

“Yeah?” he asked. She leaned against him, drunk on the heat of his gaze.

“Come back to my hotel room?” she said.

“You want that?” he said.

“I do,” Darcy said, kissing him in the street. He was an incredible kisser. He kissed her on the sidewalk, in a cab, in the lobby of her hotel, in the elevator, and as he led her to the bed. They were hungry kisses, full of need and eagerness.

“I really like you,” he said intently.

“I got that,” Darcy said, hands under his shirt. “But feel free to show me, not tell me.” She looked back, trying to gauge their distance from the bed. “Can we get there?”

“Smartass,” he said, chucking. He squeezed her ass. “Gorgeous, funny smartass.”

“Handsome, ridiculously charming man with, ooooh, muscles--” Darcy said. 

“Stop making me like you more,” he said, smirking and gazing at her. “And get in that damn bed.”

“Okay,” she said. She wasn’t sure if the sex was good because she’d never see him again or if he was just gifted with muscles and stamina, but she wasn’t sorry. She’d never been treated like this. He was playfully erotic, making her laugh and then swoon. When she woke up in the morning, he was gone. But he’d left a pair of finger cymbals on her nightstand with a note about a wonderful night he hoped she’d forget. _Forget all about me,_ it said. 

“Definitely a wife,” Darcy sighed out loud. She didn’t even know his name or his job. “Lucky wife.” But she kept the cymbals. 

  
  


***

_Sometime in 2020_

_Washington, DC_

“Well, if we can get a slot for her, I can promise a Thor appearance in this calendar year,” Darcy bargained, shifting the phone to one ear as she pushed a cart of Jane’s equipment into the building. They were joining SHIELD for the first time. “Thor is great PR,” Darcy added, trying to sound helpful and compliant. “Yes? Really--” she said excitedly, as she steered towards the elevator. Someone held it open for her. “Thank you,” Darcy said to the agent in the dark suit. She smiled back. “Okay,” Darcy said to the person on the line. “I’ll send the deposit immediately,” she promised. “By five this afternoon?” she repeated. “All right.” She’d need to leave work early.

Darcy wheeled the cart into the lab and smiled at Jane. “We’re booked!” she said. “They want the check by five, though.”

“Fantastic,” Jane said. “That was the last thing on your list, right?”

“Isn’t it great? I feel like things are going really smoothly,” Darcy said happily. She spent the day feeling elated. Everything was falling into place. They’d moved with a minimum of fuss and disruption. The equipment was here. The clothes were here. Thor and Jane were happy. She had all her arrangements made. Her little family was successfully adjusting to life in DC.

She had to leave work early to drop off the check. She was hustling through the lobby when someone called out her name. “Darcy Lewis!” a male voice said. Darcy turned. One of those agents in black tactical gear was jogging up to her.

“Yes?” Darcy said, wondering what this could be about. She didn’t know this guy. He had dark hair, tanned skin, and a handsome face. 

“Hey,” he said. “I just heard you and Foster moved in.”

“Yes,” she repeated, thinking _who are you?_

“Would you, uh, like to have dinner with me sometime?” Tactical Guy said. 

“I don’t even know your name,” Darcy said. He lit up and actually laughed. 

“That’s right,” he said. He kept smiling at her in this very ‘I’m hot and I know it’ way. It was half-attractive, half-obnoxious.

“Seriously?” Darcy said expectantly. He grinned and rubbed his jaw. She saw a flash of intricate tattoos on the back of his forearm.

“It’s Rumlow. Brock Rumlow,” he said. 

“Oh,” Darcy said. The name--like his handsome, perfect face--meant nothing to her.

“So?” he said, looking at her. “Dinner?”

“Actually,” Darcy said. “I’m really busy with the move. In fact, I need to go pay a deposit, so, um, Agent Rumlow--”

“Commander Rumlow,” he said. “I’m back running STRIKE Alpha and not working undercover anymore. It’s nice.”

“Of course,” Darcy said, playing along, “that’s great. But I really do have to be somewhere by five.”

“Oh. All right,” he said. “Lemme give you my number, okay?” She watched as he reached for a card. “We can get together once you’re all settled in. Maybe find you some new restaurants?”

“Sure,” Darcy said. “Sounds great.” She took the card he offered. 

“Cell’s on the back,” he said. “It’s really good to see you.”

“Yeah,” she said. “Thank you.” She tucked the card in her purse, gave him an awkward wave, and fled. 

“Great to see you!” he repeated, as she made it to the door. Really, it was laughable. She waved again and pushed the door open, taking a deep breath and checking her watch. She was giggling as she got into the car. This guy either mistook her for someone else or still thought she was some easy-mark young intern looking for a casual fling. Darcy had everything--and everyone--she needed. 

Traffic was heavy, but she made it in time. She pulled up at the building, smiling to herself. She’d spent all day missing her favorite person. Pushing the door open, she smiled at the receptionist. “Amada Lewis’s mom,” she said. “I’m here to pay for her slot in pre-K.”

“You’re the one who knows Thor?” the receptionist said.

“That’s me,” Darcy said. 

“She’s a funny kid,” the receptionist said.

“She gets that from me,” Darcy told her, writing out the check.

“And her eyes are so pretty!” she added.

“Those are her dad’s, not mine,” Darcy said. She had his olive brown eyes. Sometimes, it was hard to remember everything about him--the sound of his voice, the exact shape of his hands--but Darcy saw his eyes every day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Alhambra and Generalife Gardens: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0zHkAowMKrU


	2. Amado Mio

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *I own nothing!

_Sometime in 2015 and 2016…_

_Tromsø, Norway_

  
  


“It’s positive,” Darcy said, looking at the last test. Three pregnancy tests all lined up in a row. All identical results. “I’m pregnant.”

“You’re sure it’s not Ian’s?” Jane said.

“Absolutely not Ian’s, one-hundred percent the offspring of my Spanish mystery hookup,” Darcy said.

“Oh,” Jane said.

“I’m not disappointed,” Darcy said. “Jane”--she smiled at her friend and boss-- “this is amazing.”

“You’re excited?” Jane said.

“Completely excited,” Darcy said. “I think I can do this--as long as you don’t fire me,” she joked. “I’ve always wanted to have kids one day. I wanted it to be with someone better than Ian, though.”

“And this guy was better than Ian?” Jane said, sounding skeptical.

“Even just on a one-day basis,” Darcy said.

“Okay,” Jane said.

“For a start, none of mystery guy’s family have insulted me or called me Darvy, like Ian’s mother,” she said.

“True,” Jane said. “Sometimes, no dad is better than the dad who calls you a goat.”

Darcy spent most of her pregnancy in Norway. They were lucky to have good prenatal care. She toted her little Norwegian-English guide and her phone app to all her OB-GYN appointments. The doctor was nice, thankfully. Norwegians were generally pro-baby. That attitude felt really good to be around, although she was alarmed by the prospect of toddlers on skiis. Giving up coffee was a battle. She’d started having little conversations with her baby’s father in her head, as if she was filling him in on all her decision-making. His face had already started to fade in her mind, which was a little sad. She could easily imagine his voice, though. “Sweetheart,” he would say in her imagination, “everything’s gonna be fine. You’re great at this.” In the first trimester, that was enough. Try as she might, she couldn’t be really mad at him. She was too thrilled about the baby. As the pregnancy progressed, she got more anxious, so she started wearing her finger cymbals as charms on a bracelet. Whenever she felt antsy, she clacked them. They were like noisy worry beads.

“If you have a girl, she’s going to come out of the womb belly-dancing,” Jane joked, as Darcy watched a Youtube on playing zills and tapped nervously. She was waiting on her next check-up.

“Jokes on you, there are male bellydancers, too,” Darcy said.

“There are?” Jane said.

“Mmm-hmm,” Darcy said. “You lack culture, genius.” Darcy had done a Middle Eastern Studies minor at Culver; it was the reason she knew enough about Andalusian Spain to want to go to Grenada in the first place. “What about a Spanish name for the baby?”

“I can’t believe you’re not more mad at this guy,” Jane said.

“If it’s a girl, I like Mariposa, it means butterfly,” Darcy said.

“Her middle name better be Jane,” Jane muttered.

“I heard that!” Darcy said. “But seriously, does Mariposa seem like a lot or is it cute?”  
  


***

_Sometime in 2020_

_Washington, DC_

Darcy was loading the dishwasher at seven in the evening when their apartment landline rang. They’d gotten one so Thor could try using phones. It was very cute. “Hello?” she said, answering quickly. She’d just gotten Amada to sleep. 

“Darcy?” a male voice said.

“Yes?” she said.

“This is Brock Rumlow,” he said.

“Uh-huh,” she said. “Thank you for the flowers.” He’d sent her roses this morning. She’d seen him yesterday and he’d sent roses. Jane had decided he was either a jack-booted thug or just naturally aggressive.

“You like ‘em?” he said. “Maybe it’s a little clichéd, but I thought--”

“Commander Rumlow,” Darcy said, sighing. “I really can’t have dinner with you. It’s very flattering, but I’m really busy.”

“There’s no rush,” he said quickly. “Seriously, you need time to get settled in, I’ll wait. I just wanted to make sure you knew I was available this time.”

“This time?” Darcy said. She leaned against the kitchen counter.

“Yeah,” he said. “I, uh, feel like I was either doing undercover work for SHIELD or you were with Boothby, so our timing was never right, sweetheart.” 

“Oh, so you thought about asking me out in London, too, huh?” she said, grinning. There had been agents crawling all over the Dark Elf situation---after they’d solved it of course. “Maybe if someone from SHIELD had actually showed up when I called, you could’ve beaten Ian to it,” she added. 

“You think that hasn’t occurred to me?” he said, voice warm. Then he sighed. “I don’t know that it would have worked. I’ve been doing long-term undercover work in HYDRA for the last decade or so. I thought about getting your number from Thor in New York back in 2012, but it seemed like that could put you at risk--”

“Well, don’t beat yourself up there,” Darcy said, “he didn’t have Jane’s number then. She was crying into her Ben & Jerry’s at the time.”

“Yeah? Thank you for making me feel better,” he said. There was a moment of gentle silence. “You know, I still remember the first time I ever saw you? Foster took a swing at somebody loading up her equipment in New Mexico and you told Coulson it wasn’t worth your salary to get between Jane and her doohickeys,” he said. Darcy laughed.

“I did say that!” she said.

“I remember,” he said.

“I don’t remember you being there at all,” she told him.

“Oh, ouch,” he said. “Do you just not like me when I’m handsome?” His voice was light.

“Well, I’ve never been a sucker for pretty boys,” she joked.

“Pretty and all alone,” he said.

“I’m sure you don’t lack for company,” Darcy told him. She looked at the melamine princess plates in her sink and sighed. 

“What?” Rumlow said.

“The reason I’m busy is--well, I’m somebody’s mom. I have a baby,” she said. “A daughter.”

“Really?” he said. “I didn’t know you and Boothby had a little girl.”

“You kept up with Ian, but didn’t notice I was pregnant?” she said, laughing.

“Well, no, at a certain point, my partner put a lock on your file, I was wallowing. I just know you and Boothby were together and not together--” he said warmly. Darcy laughed to herself.

“Wallowing?”

“A little bit. In a manly, attractive way,” he said. “It was an appealling wallow.”

“Actually, she’s not Ian’s,” Darcy said. “Her dad was a guy that I had a brief relationship with.”

“He’s not in the picture?” Rumlow asked.

“No, he, uh, died. Car accident,” Darcy lied. “She was an infant at the time. He did stupid things. We didn’t know each other very well.”

“I’m sorry,” he said. 

“Yeah, but I can’t be totally mad at him, he gave me my daughter, who is the best thing I’ve got,” she said, more honestly. "He did one good thing in his terrible life."

“Yeah? Tell me about her?” he said, voice soft. He sounded sympathetic.

“You want to know about my kid?” Darcy said. “Well, you know the things moms like to talk about are their children. I could talk for hours. You sure you’re ready for this?” Darcy said, abandoning the dishwasher to sit on the couch.

“I’m not opposed to dating a single mom,” he said.

"Oh, yeah, you want to go to Gymboree and those awful kid's pizza places?" she said, in full sarcasm mode.

“I’m sure I'd have a good time,” he said. “Talk to me, Darcy Lewis.”

“Oooh, you've never had a kid, have you?" she said.

"Uh, no," he admitted. "No kids, no wife."

"Uh-huh," she said. "I knew it. You are so ill-prepared for this."

"Stop second-guessing me and give me a damn chance, I'm a trained agent," he complained. "I worked around Tony Stark, that ought to count as childcare." Darcy snorted. 

"Okay, where do I start?" she asked. "Oh, her name is Amada.”

“Amada?” he repeated.

“It means loved in Spanish. Or loved one? I wanted her to always know she was loved and wanted, even if I wasn’t originally planning on having a baby by myself,” she said.

“That’s nice,” he said in a gentle voice. 

“And I really liked Rita Hayworth’s “Amado Mio” number in _Gilda,”_ she added.

 _“Gilda?”_ Darcy heard his skeptical tone.

“Don’t judge me, Agent Hottie,” she said. “I was full of pregnancy hormones.”

“Excuse me, it’s Commander Hottie,” he said. She giggled. 

"It's a good movie," she insisted.

"I yield," Rumlow said. "I like the name. It's a pretty name. Beautiful."

“Thank you. Okay, so she reads at a first grade level, she loves her grilled cheese pillow, peaches are her favorite fruit, and she doesn’t like bullies. She’s funny and smart and sometimes, she does these crazy things that I know have to be him,” Darcy said.

“Yeah?” he said.

“Because I’m not coordinated enough to beat up another little kid or scale playground equipment like that,” Darcy said. Rumlow laughed.

“You’re kidding,” he said.

“Nope,” she said. “She’s wildly athletic. It’s _weird.”_

***

_Sometime in 2016…_

_Tromsø, Norway_

Darcy was fighting with a breast pump when Jane made a sound from she and Thor’s bedroom. “What is it? It can’t be more annoying than this,” she called out.

“Steve’s on the news!” she called back. Darcy turned on the television and switched to a news channel. They were used to seeing Steve--and sometimes Thor--in crazy footage. There had been New York, Sokovia, and now….Nigeria? _Bio-Terrorism Incident in Lagos_ was crawling across the screen in a gruesome font. They replayed a video segment. Darcy dropped the remote. 

“Jane!” she screamed.

“What?” Jane said, coming around the corner. Darcy pointed to the screen. 

“That’s him,” Darcy said.

“Steve?” Jane said. Darcy shook her head frantically.

“The other man. With the scars. The other man is Amada’s father,” Darcy said, feeling the bile rise in her throat. She fled to the bathroom and vomited.

“Darcy,” Jane said, appearing in the doorway.

“He’s dead, isn’t he?” she said, hunched in front of the toilet. “No one could survive that blast.”

“Yeah,” Jane whispered. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” She helped Darcy up and got her water. 

“I didn’t wake her up, did I?” Darcy said. Amada was sleeping in her crib in Darcy’s bedroom.

“Still asleep,” Jane said.

“How am I going to tell her?” Darcy said, wiping her tears. “I don’t understand. What is happening?” She sat in shock several minutes, watching the news. Finally, she looked at Jane. “I can’t tell her that was her father. And he might--he might have enemies. How can I protect her?”

“No one knows, right?” Jane said, expression canny. “We tell everyone her father died in a car accident or something. No one has to know about him.”

“Okay,” Darcy said. “I can’t believe it. He was good to me, Jane. So good.” Jane nodded.

“It’s not your--you didn’t know he was Crossbones,” Jane kept insisting.

They read more about Crossbones in the newspaper accounts, but there was a surprising lack of detail. It was all classified. “I don’t even know his real name, still,” Darcy said.

“It’s weird,” Jane admitted grimly. They looked at Thor playing with Amada in the living room. He was laughing and "catching" her toes.

“Does that mean anything?” Darcy wondered.

  
  
  


***

_The same time in 2016…_

_Lagos, Nigeria_

“Rumlow, you’re out,” Steve Rogers said, shutting the door of the van. “We’re out of the city, the biological facility is secure.”

He pulled off the mask as soon as Cap told him. Natasha Romanoff and Cap were sitting opposite him in the back of an unmarked van. “It worked?” Rumlow said. “Maximoff pulled it off?” They’d faked the explosion that ostensibly took his life. Faked the robbery to find a HYDRA mole. No one was actually dead. The Wakandan crisis was a pretext to explain Steve’s friendly relationship with the crown prince. The Wakandans had volunteered to provide SHIELD with some sort of technical assistance. It was above Rumlow’s clearance level. 

“Yeah,” Steve said. “You’re pardoned and free to go back to SHIELD under your own name.”

“But you still don’t trust me?” Rumlow said, grinning so his scars twisted.

“We’ll get you to a quinjet,” Steve said. “You’ll need to lay low--”

“I know, Cap. My face is memorable,” Rumlow said wryly.

“Coulson has work for you,” Steve said. “He’s not dead.” He stood to talk to Sam Wilson in the front.

“Oh yeah? That’s fun. I’ll have a not-dead buddy,” Rumlow said. He sighed. "I can't see anybody?" 

"No," Steve said. "We need everyone still in HYDRA to think you're gone for the foreseeable future."

"Yeah," Rumlow said. "HYDRA."

"There may be a possibility of getting your old face back once you're done with Phil's projects," Romanoff said.

"Natasha, don't tease me, that's just mean," Rumlow said. "Besides, I don't care about that--"

"Yeah, right," Sam Wilson called back. "You need to lie better!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, fun note: in Grenada's Sacromonte neighborhood, which has a strong Arab/Middle Eastern influence, the local zambra dancing is known for using bellydance elements like finger cymbals (aka zills), which look like this:


	3. Secret

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *I own nothing!

_2020_

_Washington, DC_

_Saturday_

Darcy was sitting on a park bench watching Amada play when Rumlow sat down next to her. “Coffee?” he said, passing her a cup. He grinned. She could see her reflection in his mirrored aviators. They’d agreed to meet here. It was a Saturday afternoon test date. He sat down a box. “And donuts,” he said.

“Thank you,” Darcy said. She sipped. “Caramel macchiato. Is that in my file?”

“Possibly,” he said. “I also believe in bribing small children with food. Which one’s our girl?”

“She’s the one in the blue shirt,” Darcy said. Amada was hanging off the monkey bars, letting out a loud, high-pitched shriek. 

“Is she wearing a tiara?” he said, tilting his head. Amada was wearing her favorite princess tiara and had been convinced to temporarily give Darcy her sparkly mini scarf. Darcy worried it might get snagged on the slide and accidentally injure her.

“It’s plastic,” Darcy said. “But she is an honorary duchess on Asgard, so she wanted one.”

“An honorary duchess?” he said.

“Thor’s her godfather,” Darcy said. “As Crown Prince, he can bestow courtesy titles. I just barely prevented Loki from making her a real tiara.”

“I hear he’s behaving,” Rumlow said.

“Well enough,” she said. She sipped her coffee and closed her eyes. “Ahhhh. You ever feel like the coffee is going straight to your brain?”

“I think they call that addiction,” he said warmly.

“Bite me,” she grumbled. He laughed. “You just wait until we get to the kids’ restaurant. Give me one of those donuts.” She was leaning forward over the box when Rumlow looked at her curiously. “What?” Darcy said. He’d been looking at Amada.

“He wasn’t a good guy, her father?” he asked carefully.

“He was good to me, but he stole things,” Darcy said. “From banks, mostly, I think.”

“Bank robbery,” he said, grinning.

“Why are you smiling?” Darcy said.

“It’s fun,” he said. “I’ve done a bit of that for SHIELD.”

“You’re messing with me,” she said.

“Nope, stole back stuff from HYDRA,” he said. “Only things that were a danger to the public, I promise,” he said wryly. “Perfectly respectable theft.”

“Uh-huh.”

“What’d her father look like?” he said.

“Brown eyes, brown hair,” Darcy said, narrowing her eyes. She couldn’t read his expression and wondered what this line of questioning was about.

“So you have a type, huh?” he teased.

“Excuse me?” Darcy said, almost dropping her donut.

“Brunettes with criminal tendencies,” he said wryly.

“Most of the world has brown hair and brown eyes,” Darcy said. 

“Do they all rob banks?” he asked. 

“Shut up,” Darcy said, then winced when Amada took a tumble.

“She got back up,” Rumlow said. “That’s most of the battle.” 

“She has so much energy, it’s difficult for me to keep her busy enough,” she said.

“She involved in any sports?”

“Um, I’m thinking of putting her in a dance class,” Darcy said, around a bit of donut. “They don’t recommend many organized activities for four year olds. She’s too young for team sports.”

“What if you brought her down to the gym to run some drills?” he offered. 

“Okay,” she said. "If you survive dinner."

  
  


Brock survived the kids’ pizza place. Barely. “You were right, this is noisier than a mosh pit,” he told Darcy, sitting down at the table with more beer. “Amada and I won a prize,” he told her. He’d been helping the four year old rack up tickets--and letting Darcy have a break to eat pizza and not move. “She wanted to keep going at skee ball.”

“She _loves_ skee ball,” Darcy said. 

“Her left arm is lethal,” he said.

“What prize did she get?” Darcy asked. Brock laughed. 

“I tried to convince her to get the Nerf gun, but she wanted the Minion with a pirate hat,” he said. “She won’t let him go.”

“Oh yeah,” Darcy said. “She has a plushie death grip. She’s the only kid I’ve ever met who doesn’t lose toys. She’s got this new obsession with pirates now, too.”

“Pirates?” he said, raising his eyebrows.

“I don’t get it, either,” she said. 

He helped carry Amada to bed when she fell asleep in her car seat on the way home. “This is very nice of you,” Darcy said. “But I know what you’re doing.”

“Oh, yeah?” he said.

“Being nice to my kid to win me over,” she said.

“Yes,” he said, grinning at her. “Also, I was hoping to kiss you goodnight.” She walked with him to the door, then gave him an expectant look. He kissed her very carefully. As her mouth was gently touching his, he opened his eyes. Her eyes widened a little and she pulled back. “You okay?” he asked, rubbing her shoulder.

“Yeah,” Darcy said. “I’m okay.”

  
  


***

_2020_

_Washington, DC_

_Sunday_

“Who’s this?” Maria Hill said to Brock, when she’d stopped by the gym and saw Amada hanging out with him the next afternoon. 

“A member of our junior agent training program,” he joked.

“Uh-huh,” Hill said. 

“This is Darcy Lewis’s daughter,” he said. He liked Darcy’s kid, Brock realized. She was funny. Absolutely physically fearless, too. The junior agent thing was only half a joke. He’d had Amada sprint from one side of the gym to the other until she got tired and flushed today, then sat her along the wall with animal crackers and juice for a break. Darcy had sent coloring supplies with her. She and Jane were upstairs working on a project. Or possibly napping. Either way, he assumed he was getting brownie points.

“You’re dating single moms now?” Hill asked.

“It’s very casual,” Brock lied. He wasn’t capable of being casual with Darcy. 

“Uh-huh,” Hill said. “Please don’t injure Thor’s goddaughter, I don’t think I can keep him from using the hammer on you.”

“I’m being very cautious,” Brock said. “I read about age-appropriate activities to build her coordination and motor skills yesterday. She’s doing art now, all right?” Amada was coloring. “Look, I’m a good influence,” he insisted.

“Sure,” Hill said, before leaving. Brock went to check on Amada again. 

“You doing okay?” he said, crouching down. “You want another juice?”

“Yup,” she said, looking at him with big, round eyes. She looked like a tiny version of Darcy, just with brown eyes.

“Whatcha working on?” he asked, studying the drawing. It looked like a boat.

“Ship,” she said, coloring an edge.

“Your mom says you like pirates,” he said. She nodded. “What do you like about pirates?” he said, curious. She narrowed her eyes and looked thoughtful. 

“It’s a secret,” Amada said.

“A secret. Okay,” he said, nodding. “That’s okay.” He wasn’t going to pester her. She looked at him again.

“Can you keep a secret?” Amada asked.

“Sure,” Brock said.

“I heard Aunt Jane and mommy talking about my daddy,” she said. 

“Yeah?” Brock said, trying to school his expression to something neutral.

“My daddy was a pirate,” Amada whispered. “I’m going to be a pirate, too.”

“That, right?” Brock said, chuckling. “A pirate, huh?”

“But it’s a secret,” she repeated.

"Gotcha," he said. He tapped the side of his nose. "I won't tell anybody."

"Thank you," she said politely. "May I have a juice box?"

“Okay, Jane, hear me out. I feel crazy,” Darcy said, upstairs in the lab. She'd been napping in her desk chair, wrapped in a Snuggie.

“Yeah?” Jane said. She was actually working. Darcy sighed.

“When Brock kissed me last night--”

“Uh huh,” Jane said archly. “Was it a good kiss?”

“I looked into his eyes and I got the weirdest flashback,” Darcy said. “It was like I was with _him_ again. In Spain.”

“What?” Jane said.

“His eyes--they just reminded me,” Darcy said. “I know statistically everybody has brown eyes, but do you ever have weird sensory flashbacks, like you smell potpourri and _boom,_ you’re eleven in your grandma’s kitchen again?”

“Okay,” Jane said. “You had a memory of You Know Who when you were kissing Rumlow?”

“It was just like the time I smelled the perfume I wore in high school and I had this memory of being in detention because I was late all the time,” Darcy said. “I froze. I hope it didn’t weird him out.”

“He’s babysitting Amada,” Jane said. “I’m sure he didn’t even notice.”

“He already thinks I have a type,” Darcy said with a sigh.

"Yeah?"

"Brunettes with criminal pasts," she added. Jane started to laugh.


	4. Cheese and Strawberry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *I own nothing!

“Jane, I’m going downstairs for the good mochas? I need one,” Darcy said.

“Oh, great idea,” Jane said. “Get extra chocolate.” She glared at her recalcitrant readouts. They weren't behaving as expected and Jane was perplexed. Darcy shuffled out of the lab, hoping not to be seen by HR in non-business casual. She was wearing a ratty Culver sweatshirt and yoga pants. Also, if someone said something to her, she’d probably get upset. It had been a rough week. Jane was working on this difficult project, Amada didn’t like her new after school program, and Darcy was way behind on laundry. She’d picked washing Amada’s favorite clothes--bribery was a totally legit parenting method--over a hot shower this morning. Her hair was dirty, her brain was foggy, and she needed more coffee STAT. She rode the elevator downstairs and waited in line behind several black-clad agents. 

“Hey, sweetheart,” a voice said. She turned and realized Brock was walking towards her.

“Hi,” she said, acutely conscious of her messy topknot. He hugged her, gently kissing her forehead. He must have noticed her chagrin.

“Something wrong?” he asked.

“I'm exhausted and I look terrible,” she said, “Jane’s in the frustrating experiment stage--”

“You look great,” he said, rubbing her back. Darcy looked at him. God, he was so good-looking. She wanted to crawl into his arms and nap. Naked.

“Liar,” Darcy said.

“Cute?” he bartered.

“Ugh, you’re being too nice,” she said. “Everything’s been yuck this week. Amada’s been unhappy every day when I pick her up from after school and won’t tell me why, too. I’m behind on housework, I’m grubby. I’m sorry I haven't called--”

“It’s okay,” he said, arm around her. “Can I do something?”

“Put up with my crazy life?” Darcy said wistfully. He laughed and pulled her closer so she was wedged against him.

“You think your life is crazy?” he said. “That’s fucking hilarious, sweetheart.” Brock grinned and shook his head. “C’mon, order one of these sugar bomb coffee drinks and I’ll pick you up after work? Let you rest and hang out with Amada? I’ll even do your laundry,” he said. Behind them, someone called his name; Brock turned. 

“My laundry?” Darcy said, shocked.

“Just a sec, Rodriguez,” he called. Then he turned back to her, smiling.

“Seriously? Amada’s been really upset, I’m just warning you,” Darcy said. “Are you sure?”

“Absolutely,” Brock said, kissing her goodbye. “Meet me in the parking deck.” 

“Brock’s insane,” Darcy announced, when she got back to the lab. “And I got you a danish.”

“Oh good,” Jane said, looking up. “Cheese or strawberry?”

“Cheese  _ and _ strawberry,” Darcy said. “You get to pick. Or have both.”

“You’re the best assistant,” Jane said. “I don’t care if you can’t do physics math, you’re irreplaceable.”

“Thank you,” Darcy said with a snort.

“Why is Brock insane?” Jane wondered aloud.

“He wants to take care of me and Amada tonight. He’s volunteered to do laundry and keep her occupied while I nap,” Darcy explained. 

“You should keep him,” Jane said.

“It’s not like I did anything to get him in the first place,” Darcy said. “He’s just showing up. Why?”

“I can think of lots of reasons,” Jane said.

“Okay,” Darcy said, playing along. “Name one.”

“You’re pretty,” Jane said. “And young and funny.”

“Jane--” Darcy said. 

“Did you want me to sugarcoat? He’s older, so you seem especially young and beautiful and appealing. He seems to genuinely like Amada, even I noticed that,” Jane said. “And obviously, at his age--”

“At his age?” Darcy said.

“Maybe he’s old enough that he feels like he missed out on having a family?” Jane said. “And then you show up, the girl he wanted to flirt with, single, with a cute kid that likes sports?”

“Except ballet and dance,” Darcy said, sighing, “why does she hate her dance class?”

“She still won’t tell you?” Jane said.

“Nope,” Darcy said. “Is your whole argument that my boyfriend likes me because I’m young?”

“I said funny,” Jane objected. “Also, he’s not like  _ old  _ old.”

“Nope,” Darcy repeated. She sighed. “He has great abs.”

“You’ve got good boobs,” Jane said. 

“Thank you,” Darcy said, giggling.

  
  


“You want me to go in with you?” Brock asked, when they pulled up at the dance studio. Darcy raised her eyebrows.

“You want to?” she said. He nodded. He’d been crazily helpful: insisted on driving, so she could have a break from DC traffic, even though they took her car for car seat reasons and he’d brought her coffee. She’d kissed him a little for that. She hoped she didn’t have visible stubble burns. She’d gotten a little carried away. 

“Sure. Plus, you look tired. If she needs to be carried, I can,” he said. He smiled at her. “Kids always behave better for somebody who isn’t their parents,” he added. “Piece of cake.”

“Uh-huh,” Darcy said, fully skeptical. He reached over and held her hand as they walked in. He was smiling and confident as they went through the door. Chatted pleasantly with the receptionist. “Third classroom on the left,” Darcy said. They walked to the door. It had a glass window. That was when he saw Amada sitting on the floor. She had clearly been crying. Her cheeks were red and her eyes were glassy. Brock looked at Darcy. “Oh yeah,” Darcy said. “She won’t tell me why.”

“Fuck,” he said. Then he did something Darcy didn’t expect. He walked in and went directly to Amada. Darcy watched as he crouched down and said something to her in a quiet voice. Amada looked up at him as Darcy spoke to the teacher. 

“No happy face today?” she asked. Even Amada’s little dance class tutu looked somehow sad. The teacher shook her head. Amada had apparently started getting overwhelmed in class and crying, Darcy guessed. Her four year old could be surprisingly determined.

“She won’t tell me why, either,” the teacher said. Darcy sighed. She looked at Brock. He was tousling Amada’s hair. Amada was smiling at him weakly. Her smile turned up, then crumpled at the corners a little. Brock was talking to her in a soft voice. “This her dad?” the teacher asked.

“No,” Darcy said, startled. 

“You’re kidding! They look so alike,” the teacher said. Darcy looked back at the two of them. Amada had stood up for Brock. She was even letting him pick her up. 

“You got all your stuff?” he was asking.

“Need my coat,” Amada told him, audibly sniffling. They did look alike. Darcy had never realized it before, but they had more than brown eyes in common: Amada’s dark hair had similar poufiness. There was even a similar deep set to their eye shape. You might really think they were related.

“He jokes I have a type,” Darcy whispered, grinning.

“It’s a good type,” the teacher said. That made Darcy laugh.

“Hi, sweetie,” Darcy said, as they walked over.

“Hi, mommy,” she said, letting her head rest against Brock’s shoulder. He shifted to stand sideways, so she could see Darcy without lifting her head. 

“You having a rough day?” Darcy asked.

“I’m just tired,” Amada said. Over her head, Brock raised his eyebrows. They said goodbye to the teacher and walked to the coat room. Amada wanted to get down and put on her coat.

“You want some help, sweetheart?” Brock said.

“Nope, I got it,” she said, then went over to her cubby.

“She likes to do things independently,” Darcy said quietly. “That must be a him thing. When I was little, I was so shy I used to hang onto my mom’s leg and peek around at people. I didn’t do anything independently until I was twenty-seven,” she joked. Brock laughed, then frowned.

“Just tired?” he said, in a voice too low for Amada to overhear.

“I think she picked it up from me or Jane, but she uses that whenever she doesn’t want to talk about her feelings,” Darcy said.

“She’s a baby,” he said, looking faintly stunned.

“She’s a very complex little person,” Darcy said. 

“I’m ready,” Amada said, carrying her mini bookbag and lunch box.

“You want me to carry you?” Brock offered.

“No,” she said. “I can do it.”

“Oh, I know,” he said. “I just thought you might like seeing all the cars parked outside.” His voice was casual. Darcy looked at him in surprise. Was Brock Rumlow using reverse-psych on her stubborn toddler?

“The cars?” Amada said. She squinted. “Okay,” she said, “Mommy, you can carry my bags.”

“I’m carrying the bags?” Darcy said.

“Yes,” Amada said, holding them out. After Darcy took them, she held out her arms for Brock to pick her up. “Why are you here?” she asked him suddenly.

“I’m having dinner with you guys,” he said.

“What kind of dinner?” Amada asked, perking up. She’d inherited Darcy’s food love.

“What’s your favorite?” he asked.

“Broccoli cheddar soup,” Amada said. “Also, I like turkey sandwiches.”

“You like turkey, huh?” he said.

“Her aunt Jane pays for a lot of lunches from sandwich places,” Darcy said.

“Uh-huh,” Amada said. 

“She eats a lot of things, she really likes vegetables,” Darcy said, unable to mask her smugness. Jane frequently accused Darcy of “mom bragging” about Amada’s lack of fussy eating or pickiness.

“And fruit cup,” Amada said seriously. 

  
  


“Darcy,” Brock said, shaking her gently. She opened her eyes. She was slumped awkwardly in the passenger seat.

“Huh?” 

“You fell asleep while Amada was studying her menu,” he said. Darcy realized they were at her apartment. And she had drooled a little. “But I need your house keys.”

“Oh,” she said. “Did you read her the choices?” She kept takeout menus in the car, because Amada liked Darcy to read her all the options and see the pictures.

“Yes,” Amada said from the backseat. “I went inside to help and look. We got you tomato soup, Mommy.”

“I carried her in,” Brock said. “She wanted to go in.” He looked anxious, like he was afraid she’d be mad.

“Oh, good,” Darcy said, trying to wake up. Her mouth was dry and she had that groggy feeling from heavy sleep. 

“That’s okay?” he said.

“Sure, of course,” Darcy said. “What am I doing?”

“House keys,” he said, smiling. He brushed back her hair and she smiled at him.

“Keys, keys,” she said, fumbling in her purse. 

“Will you carry me?” Amada asked Brock, startling Darcy. 

“You want him to carry you?” she said.

“Yes,” Amada said. Darcy got weirdly emotional watching Brock carrying her into the house. He was very patient with her throughout dinner. Amada talked to him a lot, Darcy realized. She seemed perfectly happy to listen to Brock talk about martial arts while Darcy took a shower after dinner, too. When she came back in her bathrobe, Amada was talking in a quiet voice. “They said I couldn’t be a pirate because I was a girl,” she was saying.

“That’s why you don’t like your dance class?” he said. 

“Yeah,” she said, sighing.

“But there are girl pirates,” Brock said.

“There are?” Amada said. She sounded hopeful.

“Yeah, of course,” he said. “Plenty of girl pirates. You can be a pirate, they don’t know shit--wait, don’t tell your mom I said that.” Amada giggled. 

“I heard that,” Darcy said. They both turned.

“Uh-oh,” Amada said.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *this is the most no-drama chapter ever, I'm not sure it advances the plot, I just liked writing it.


	5. Sleepover

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *I own nothing!

_Still 2020...later that night_

_Washington, DC_

Darcy tucked Amada into bed and found Brock in the living room. “She’s good?”

“Totally asleep,” Darcy said. He smiled at her. 

“I opened some wine,” he said. 

“Could you be more perfect?” Darcy said. “Handsome, good with my kid, all muscly, you let me nap after dinner, you open my favorite wine, it's very irritating.”

“I’m also good in bed," he said, smirking. “Don't forget that.”

“Mmm-hmmm,” she said, trying not to smirk back. “I think we should take the wine into my room.”

“I thought you’d never ask,” Brock said, getting up. “I was waiting for you to take my pants off, actually,” he told her, following Darcy into her bedroom and setting down the drinks.

“Nope, I'm drinking this wine, you drop your pants,” she said, grinning and sipping her wine. She leaned against the dresser to look at him.

“I’m a little insulted that you aren’t wooing me,” he said. “Where’s my romance, Darcy Lewis?” Darcy laughed as he took his shirt off--then inadvertently gasped. “That’s flattering,” he said, looking down at his abs. “This looks pretty good, right?”

“You look, um, amazing,” she said. 

“Get over here,” he said coaxingly. 

“Okay,” she said. Darcy put down her wine and moved closer to him, feeling tentative. She’d never been with anyone who looked this good naked before. Well, maybe Amada’s father, but Crossbones had been badly scarred. She shook off the thoughts of him and made eye contact with Brock. He was smirking at her.

“You can touch me, you know that, right?” he said. “You’ve been a little shy with me, sweetheart. I don’t remember you being so shy,” he teased. 

“It’s been a little while,” she said.

“Yeah?” he said, as Darcy put her hands on his stomach.“It has been, hasn’t it?” he said. She felt the hard planes of his abs and her eyes widened. 

“Ahhh,” she said. “You’re so muscly, this is crazy.” He grinned. 

“Helen Cho did some work on me,” he said. Darcy was occupied with feeling him up, but frowned. “What?” Brock said.

“Don’t say her name in front of Jane, there are some issues,” Darcy told him. “God, you look incredible.” She swallowed, heart beating fast.

“Are you drooling a little?” he teased.

“I am not!” Darcy said. “It’s just a little nerve-wracking, that’s all. Being with somebody after so long...I don’t date much,” she confessed. “And certainly not someone….”

“Yeah?” he said, looking impossibly smug.

“So annoyingly perfect,” she snarked. He grinned and pulled her in close. The kiss was slow and careful. “So perfect,” Darcy repeated stupidly.

“Yeah?” he said, face close to hers.

“Yeah,” she said. He steered her towards the bed as they kissed. She did get his pants off. “We really do need to be quiet, though,” Darcy said, breaking one intense kiss. He looked at her in confusion. “Sleeping baby,” she reminded him. He nodded. They tried to be quiet. A little. It was just difficult. The bed made noise, their bodies made noise, Darcy inadvertently made noise.

“Fuck, baby, you feel so good,” Brock said, grunting as he came. Too loudly, Darcy thought. She heard another sound, from somewhere in the apartment.

“Oh God, I think you woke her up,” Darcy whispered in his ear. 

“Me?” he said archly. Brock was on top of her. He smirked. She had been making noise, too. Some. “You’re blaming me?” he asked.

“Shhhh,” Darcy said, panicking slightly. “No sounds!” 

“All right,” he said. “You first.” He pulled out and she sighed reflexively. Then he grinned. “You like me, huh?” he said, crawling down her body. He was somewhere around her belly button when the bedroom door opened.

“Darcy--” Jane said, then made a dismayed sound. “Sorry, sorry,” she said, shutting the door. “I didn’t know you had company!” she called in a whisper through the door.

“It’s okay,” Darcy whispered back. She looked down at a perfectly-relaxed Brock and apologized. He shrugged.

“It’s never going to be just us,” he said calmly. “Kids, roommates,” he said. Then he smirked again and disappeared under her blanket.

“Oh God, I so didn’t groom for this,” Darcy said out loud, feeling his mouth on her inner thighs. She heard him laugh. 

When Darcy woke up in the morning, Brock was gone. “He probably has the gym,” she told herself, getting dressed. It was hard not to feel glum. Jane and Thor must be up with Amada, too. She’d slept late. That was good of them, to let her sleep in. Darcy rounded the corner into the living room and realized Brock was standing in her kitchen. “Hi,” she said, surprised. Amada was sitting on the couch, coloring. He was cooking. “You got up with her?” she said, walking in to the kitchen.

“She knocked, because Aunt Jane told her you were having a sleepover,” he said, grinning. Darcy poured a cup of coffee. “She thinks that’s good, because--and I quote--Mommy never has sleepovers,” he added. 

“Oh God,” Darcy said, covering her face.

“I think it’s cute,” he said.

“Uh-huh,” Darcy said, contemplating hiding in the fridge with the half and half. 

“Omelet?” he said. “Jane and Thor have volunteered to take her to the park so you can have more sleepovers after breakfast,” he added, more quietly. Darcy started to laugh. She couldn’t help it. She was seesawing between embarrassment and happiness too much. He looked at her. “You okay?”

“No,” she said. “I’m freaking out---it’s not natural to be this happy.” He lit up a fraction.

“No shit,” he said. “Sit down. I’ll bring you this.”

“Okay,” she said. “You should really tell me something bad about yourself, though. You’ve read my files, you know about my student loan debt and my tendency to let my nail polish chip off instead of using remover,” she said. 

“Oh, I’ve done plenty of bad things,” he said, smirking again. He kissed her quickly, then glanced at Amada. “She okay with you kissing people?” he asked. Darcy pulled a face.

“No idea,” she said honestly, “I haven’t dated anybody seriously since Ian and I split up for the last time.” She lowered her voice. “We tried again when she was around one, but he couldn’t cope with a baby,” she said. Brock grimaced.

“I knew I never liked him,” he said. “Sweetie,” he called to Amada, “you want mushrooms in your omelet?” She looked up at them.

“Yes,” Amada said. “Were you kissing?” she asked.

“Uh, yeah,” he said. “Is it okay if I kiss your mom?” Amada screwed up her face and Darcy waited, trying not to laugh. Amada was so going to say something. Darcy knew that face.

“She has coffee breath in the mornings,” Amada said. “But okay.” Brock burst out laughing and Amada looked pleased with herself. 

“Hey,” Darcy said. “You’re supposed to make fun of him, not me!” She shrugged and went back to her coloring.

“She’s great,” Brock said. 

They were in bed later--Thor and Jane had eaten a bunch of omelets and then taken Amada for an outing---when he looked at Darcy seriously. “There’s something you should know about me,” Brock said. 

“You have three ex-wives?” she said, studying the tattoos inside his arms.

“No,” he said, grinning. She leaned over and kissed one of them.

“Good,” Darcy said. She snuggled up against him and closed her eyes.

“I, uh,” he said. “I have, uh--”

“An STI?” Darcy whispered, opening her eyes. She tried to keep her voice non-judgmental and stuff. “Because that’s okay--”

“No, no,” he said. “I have money.”

“You what?” Darcy said.

“When I robbed those banks for SHIELD,” he said. 

“You stole money?” she said. 

“No, I got a finder’s fee,” he said, laughing. “Lots of them. So, uh, I’m okay, financially.”

“Oh,” Darcy said. “Okay. That’s nice.” 

“I’ve got plenty of money,” he said.

“Are you bragging about your affluence now?” Darcy said.

“No,” he said, snorting. “I just thought that if Amada needs, you know, school supplies or something,” he said. “Or if you want to put her in a different after school, just ask--” he added.

“That’s a lot to ask of you,” Darcy said quickly.

“Nah,” he said. “I like Amada.”

“I’m glad,” Darcy said, rubbing his chest. He sighed deeply and squeezed her hand.

“I know a guy who teaches jiujitsu, he might know about a kid’s class she’d actually enjoy. Those ballet kids are being assholes,” Brock said. “One of the other girls told her that girls can't be pirates.”

“She told you?” Darcy said, picking her head up in surprise. “She wouldn’t tell me!”

“She’s afraid you’ll be upset if she quits,” Brock said. “She wants to learn something tougher than ballet, though.” 

“Wow,” Darcy said. 

“What?” Brock said.

“You’re just really getting along,” she said. 

“That’s good, right?” he said.

“Yeah, definitely,” Darcy said. She closed her eyes. “The ballet teacher assumed you were her dad, actually. She thought you looked alike.” He chuckled.

“How can somebody think that when she looks so much like you?” he wondered.

“It’s the pretty brown eyes,” Darcy said. “And general prettiness.” He really laughed then.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” he said. 

The next few weeks went by surprisingly fast for Darcy: Jane had a small, but important breakthrough, so their workdays were occupied with designing experimental tests to confirm the theory, Brock arranged for Amada to get into a little kids’ martial arts course after school, and Darcy found herself in a serious relationship for the first time since Ian. She didn’t even have to work all that much at it. When he was in town, Brock hung out with them and even bought Amada little surprises from his overseas trips. Their weekend (and occasional weeknight) sleepover routine got very comfortable pretty quickly. Amada didn’t seem the slightest bit upset by his presence. In fact, she started fussing when he was away working. Darcy was taking a sleepy Amada on a brief grocery store run after class on a Tuesday when Amada pouted. “Why can’t I stay home?” she said. She was clearly tired, Darcy thought, noticing how slumped she was in the grocery cart’s kid seat. But she loved her martial arts class, so she was calmer at home. It had been a good decision to switch to programs.

“Because Aunt Jane and Uncle Thor went to New York,” Darcy said. Thor was going to hang out with the Avengers and Jane was meeting with some scientist buddies. Darcy was getting a few days off.

“What about Brock?” Amada said. “Is he still gone?” He’d been away on a mission for a few days.

“You’d rather hang out with him than be here with me? Your only mother?” Darcy said, clasping her hands over her heart. “My heart! I’m wounded, Amada Jane Lewis.”

“Mommy,” Amada said seriously, “you’re being ridiculous.”

“Fine,” Darcy said. “I’ll behave.” She looked at Amada. “Do you really like Brock that much?” she asked, curious. Amada nodded vigorously, expression woeful.

“We were s’posed to watch a movie,” Amada said. She sighed and her bottom lip stuck out. Darcy suppressed the urge to mention that she’d watched movies with Amada last night; petty parenting jealousy was unseemly, right?

“Make your sad face,” Darcy said. She snapped a photo of Amada and sent it to Brock with a note about how much they both were missing him. “I’ll tell him you miss him, too, Boo.” 

“Yeah?” Amada said.

“Yup,” Darcy said. A few moments later, her phone rang. It was Brock.

“Hey, we just got in. I’m leaving debrief,” he said, sounding tired.

“Oh, I’m sorry--” Darcy began, worried she’d interrupted him. 

“It’s all right, sweetheart,” he said. “Can I meet you at home?”

“Sure,” Darcy said. 

“Is that him? Is that him?” Amada said, almost leaning out of the grocery cart. She waved for the phone. Darcy grinned.

“Don’t lean,” Darcy said. “Amada wants to talk to you,” she told Brock. 

“She does?” he said, sounding happy. She handed Amada the phone and Amada babbled away. She chatted about her class while Darcy finished her shopping. It was nice seeing her so happy, Darcy thought. 

Brock was on the couch when they came inside. He’d gotten home before them; Darcy had given him a key. “Brock!” Amada squealed joyfully, launching herself at him.

“Hey, duchessina,” he said. He’d started calling her “little duchess” in Italian. Amada landed forcefully. “Ooof.”

“I missed you!” she said.

“Missed you, too,” he said, kissing her forehead. He smiled gently. He looked at Darcy. “You need help with the groceries?”

“No, it’s just a few bags. Let me make you both some food?” Darcy said. He looked tired. There were bruise shadows on his forehead and he had a black eye. “I’ve got frozen veggies and chicken breasts?”

“Sounds great,” he said. “C’mere and kiss me first, though.” She leaned over and kissed him gently, then went into the kitchen.

“I’ll help you, Mommy,” Amada said. She looked sternly at Brock. “What happened?” she said. She’d seen his bruises.

“I just got a little bit hurt,” he said. “It’s not a big deal.” When Darcy looked back, Amada was shaking her head at him, arms crossed.

“That’s not good,” she said.

“So, I’m in trouble, huh?” he said. Amada nodded. After dinner and some cartoons, Brock put Amada to bed, then plopped next to Darcy on the couch. “She’s really mad about my eye,” he said, chuckling.

“Yeah, she learned to fuss at me for falling down first,” Darcy said. 

“Oh yeah?”

“Mommy, you have to be careful!” Darcy mimicked. “I used to be her favorite person, before you stole my spot. It was a good four years.” She rolled her eyes at him.

“I can’t help it if all Lewis women love me,” he said. Darcy laughed. “What?” he said.

“My mom hasn’t met you yet,” she said mirthfully.

“Is she going to hate me?” he said, frowning.

“No,” Darcy said.

“No?” he asked.

“She’s totally going to pinch your ass,” Darcy said, laughing. He guffawed, then winced and touched his ribs. “How hurt are you?” she asked him.

“They’ll heal, we just might need to skip sex tonight,” he said grimly.

“Oh no,” Darcy said wryly. He put his arm around her and kissed her face. 

“I’m heartbroken,” he said, turning flirtatious on a dime. Darcy leaned against him carefully, trying not hurt him.

“Thank you for coming because she missed you,” she said. He smiled so widely that he was practically beaming.

“Did you not miss me?” he teased.

“Of course I missed you,” Darcy said. “But she doesn’t normally get attached so fast.”

“Oh, that reminds me, what kind of fucking car seat do I need if we wanna take my car? Help me order one?” he said.

“Oh, that’s easy,” she said. 

“Yeah?” he said.

“It’s installing it that’s the nightmare,” Darcy said.


	6. Date Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *I own nothing!

“Fuck,” Brock said. “Fucker. Look at this goddamn thing, Jack.” He gestured to the car seat in his SUV. The new car seat wouldn't install. Brock had been trying for most of his lunch break to figure it out.

“It can’t be that bloody difficult, can it?” Jack said. “Lemme see your brochure?”

“Here’s the fucking thing,” Brock said, passing it to him. “I can't make sense of it. Damn thing reads like it was translated by Chitauri.” He sighed and rocked back on his heels. “I gotta figure this out,” Brock said.

“You really like Darcy Lewis, huh?” Jack said.

“Yeah,” Brock said. “I never thought I’d want kids, either, but her kid is different, you know?” he added. “It’s all different.” Jack grinned. 

“She gets on with you like a duck to water, mate. Dave in Analytics thought she was your young’un,” Jack said. “Thought you’d stashed a whole family away someplace.” 

“People think she’s my kid?” he said. Jack laughed. “What?” Brock said.

“You’re doing that blink again,” Jack said wryly. The blink was a tell of Brock’s. He blinked under the impact of strong emotions.

“I’m not,” Brock insisted. He sighed again and shook the car seat. It wriggled dangerously. They were readjusting it for the twelfth time when Natasha Romanoff walked by.

“What are you doing?’ she asked.

“Car seat,” Brock huffed. He was sweating. Nat tilted her head.

“Whose baby?” she asked.

“Darcy Lewis,” Brock said. He looked at her carefully. She was grinning now.

“Really?” Nat said. “You are dating her and installing car seats?”

“Why’s that funny?” Brock said. He puffed up slightly in offense.

“You’ve wounded him, Romanoff,” Jack cut in, smirking. “He’s mad about those girls.” Nat looked as if she wanted to giggle.

“You need Barton,” she said.

“Barton?” Jack said.

“He’s actually good at car seats. A savant,” Nat said.

“Barton?” Brock repeated. He and Jack exchanged glances.

“I’ll send him down,” Nat said. She walked away mirthfully.

“What does Barton know that we don't know?” Brock said to Jack.

“Bloody terrifying thought,” Jack said.

“You gotta listen for the click,” Clint said, “just like safe-cracking. C’mere, get in close,” he said to Brock. Brock leaned into the SUV’s open door, squeezed in next to Clint. Clint moved the car seat. “You hear it?”

“Uhhh,” Brock said. He didn't want to admit he couldn't hear the click.

“I thought you had hearing loss?” Jack said, perplexed.

“I can still hear the click, just like Beethoven,” Clint said. “You just gotta listen. Get your head in the right place--”

“Closer?” Brock said, inching forward.

“Not literally. Mentally, spiritually,” Clint said, tapping the car seat. “You are engaged in a spiritual battle with this machine. It will beat you, if it can,” he said. “These bastards can sense fear. You gotta be prepared, man.”

“Like a fight?” Brock said.

“Exactly,” Clint said, index finger on his temple. “Exactly like a fight. All in your mind. You try. Remember, no fear.”

“Got it,” Brock said. He cleared his throat and seized the car seat. For a moment, he hesitated, considering his options.

“Don't waver,” Clint said. “It can smell fear.”

“Yeah,” Brock said.

“You can do it, mate,” Jack said. “You jump out of planes.”

“I jump out of planes,” Brock repeated. He shifted the car seat, carefully listening for the significant sound. He was slow and careful. A moment later, he heard it. A click. “I got it!” Brock yelled. “Yes! I got you, you fucker!” He high-fived a woohooing Clint. 

“You did it!” Clint said. “Just remember, man. Don't let it get in your head.”

“Okay. Yeah. Good,” Brock said. He gazed at the car seat like it was a treacherous thing.

“How’d you figure this out?” Jack asked, curious. Clint brightened.

“I borrowed Laura’s method for car engines,” he said. “She kept a 1974 Volkswagon running for fifteen years. Never seen anything like it. She could talk that car into starting.”

  
  


***

“I got the car seat sorted out,” Brock told Darcy over the phone. She was running errands. Jane had closed the lab, so she was using the time to do things that were boring and hard to do normally: her yearly check-up, a dentist cleaning, and filing her taxes earlier. Now she was at Target. Boring adulthood stuff. But she thought she might be able to do something fun for Amada with the refund, if she got one. If she could think of a truly special thing; Amada was still too young for amusement parks and most movies. Most of their fun activities involved cooking, since Darcy liked to bake and Amada was very interested in brownies. But she wanted her to have good memories. What would make a good memory?

“Great,” she said. “I’m so proud of you, they’re like evil Jenga seats.” Brock chuckled.

“Barton had to show me,” he said, “but I think I got it.”

“That sounds like fun,” Darcy said. She sighed.

“What’s wrong?” he said. “Where are you?”

“Target. But I can’t think of something fun and new to do with Amada,” she admitted. “I used to have ideas for this, before I got mom brain. I swear to God, parenthood does some hormonal thing that negativity impacts your creativity,” she told him. “There’s probably a link between estrogen and becoming this paranoid hoverer who wakes up at three am thinking, _did I pack the lunch?_ ” That made Brock laugh.

“You’re cute,” he said. “And plenty creative.”

“Sure,” Darcy said skeptically, tilting the phone closer. She got Amada some coloring things from the one dollar bin.

“I remember last night, that was creative,” he said in a low voice. Darcy burst out laughing.

“Only someone with your bodyfat thinks strawberries and prosecco in bed is creative instead of cheesy,” Darcy whispered, “which reminds me, I need to change my sheets. Maybe I should buy another set?” She’d been changing her sheets a lot lately. 

“I’ll help you tonight,” he said. “But I thought that was fun?”

“Seriously?” she said.

“Yes,” he said, sounding happy. “Buy more strawberries.”

“I was thinking of branching out to mangos or pineapples.” He laughed in her ear. “It’s romance novel cheesy, but I’m too old for really athletic sex,” she said. “Do you need me to get more condoms?” A woman in the aisle stared at her. 

“Nah, I’ve got it handled,” Brock said. “And you’re not old.”

“What about cute underwear?” she countered teasingly, half to scandalize the woman giving her the evil eye.

“Mmmm,” he said. “Yeah. I wouldn’t mind that.”

“Okay,” Darcy said, turning her cart. 

“You want me to pick her up from Mike’s?” Brock said. Mike was the guy who ran the after school jujitsu program.

“You’re volunteering to pick her up?” Darcy said, incredulous.

“The car seat’s good, I promise,” he said. “Barton checked my work.”

“No, I was thinking you’re such a unicorn, I should really put on a ring on it,” Darcy joked. 

“Oh,” he said. There was a pause on the line. _Shit,_ Darcy thought, _I fucked up._

“I mean--” she began nervously.

“I thought that was my job,” he said, voice amused. “Putting a ring on it?”

“Nah,” she said, feeling a flood of relief. He didn’t sound pissed off or freaked out. “I’m modern and independent. Did the kid first, I’m not afraid to pop the question,” she said. 

“At least take me someplace nice,” he joked.

“I’d put the ring in dessert, but you don’t eat that,” she sassed him.

“I drink,” he said, half-laughing, half-defensive. “That counts.”

  
  


***

When Brock arrived at Mike’s the kids’ class was still in session. The four year olds were paired off, doing gentle holds on the thick blue mats. There was lots of laughter and talking. He sat in a plastic chair at the edge, waving to Mike. When Amada realized he was there, she suddenly released the other student. “Hi!” she shrieked. She was almost tackled by her pursuing partner, but neatly evaded the other little girl and yelled, "time out!” before she ran over to him for a hug.

“Hi, sweetie,” he said. He still got surprised by the intensity of her hugs. She clung to him tightly. 

“Where’s mommy?” she asked, looking up. “I need to talk to you.”

“She’s letting me pick you up today,” Brock told her.

“Okay. Is she getting ready for your date?” Amada asked.

“We were just going to eat and hang out with you,” he said. “Go finish your class. You left your partner over there--” 

“No,” Amada said sternly. “You and mommy need to have date night.” 

“We do?” he said. She nodded fiercely. 

“Sophie says her mom and dad have date night once a week and it’s important,” Amada said, stressing the last word. “All you do is sleepovers. What if you break up?” She made a sad face. Across the room, Mike was laughing at him.

“We’re not breaking up, okay,” he said. “I swear.”

“You promise?” Amada said. 

“Absolutely,” Brock said. 

“Okay,” she said. He watched as she ran back to her partner. 

“Sleepovers?” Mike called out.

“Mind your business,” Brock said. The trouble with a class for four year olds was that you couldn’t flip the teacher off. Still, he looked up some different things he and Darcy could do with Amada this weekend on his phone as the kids got ready to leave. He found something and brought it up with Amada on the drive home. She was dozing off in the car seat. “You think your mom would like to go to a special cheese market for a date?” he asked. There was a local cheese tasting thing happening.

“Cheese?” Amada said. Her voice was sleepy.

“For date night. On Saturday.”

“Good,” she said. “She loves cheese.” A few minutes later, he realized at a red light that she was asleep.

“Check this out,” Brock said, taking the new stroller out of his trunk as they got out at the cheese place on Saturday morning. He’d found out about it researching car seats. “It’s got a cupholder, you can take it on all kinds of terrain, and it opens like this,” he said. He hit a button and the stroller opened smoothly. “See how stable it is?” he said. Her current one didn’t have a cup holder.

“It’s wonderful,” Darcy said. She looked at him. “Please tell me this wasn’t hugely expensive, though?”

“Nope,” he said.

“Did you just lie?” she asked.

“Possibly,” he said. He looked at Amada in her car seat. “You ready?” he asked. She was holding her pirate Minion. 

“Yes,” she said. 

“She’s been very serious all day,” Darcy whispered as they pushed her into the building. “She must be really worried about date night. She picked out my earrings and my outfit.” 

"Red hearts?" he said. She was wearing a pair of red heart earrings.

"They're the best ones," Amada said. "Aunt Jane helped me buy them."

“Date night is serious business,” Brock said back. 

“I want to have my ears pierced,” Amada announced. “But I’m not old enough.”

“How old is old enough?” Brock said.

“Some people say ten,” Darcy said.

“It’s so far away,” Amada said, sighing. “Look, mommy!” She pointed to a vendor. 

“What is it?” Darcy said, playing along.

“A free sample!” she said. “Mommy likes those.”

"Am I doing good?" Brock whispered, as Darcy got a sample of goat cheese. Amada nodded. He gave her a thumbs up. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Adorable four year olds doing martial arts: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8m0NWBhxRow


	7. A Boring Life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *I own nothing!

_Still 2020..._

_Washington, DC_

Darcy was eating slices of Gruyère from a vendor when she realized she’d lost Amada and Brock. She felt a tiny frisson of parent panic, then spotted them in front of another booth. Brock was crouched down, feeding Amada in her stroller. She was chatting between bites, gesturing with her hands. He was smiling back at her. For a second, Darcy’s heart hurt: it was so beautiful--and so sad. Amada would never get to have a moment like this with her father. Darcy wanted to cry. She always had weird, guilty emotions about Crossbones. She knew, intellectually, that he’d been a bad person, but couldn't bring herself to actually believe it. Not really. Maybe it was because she saw so many traits in Amada that had to be his, she was in denial? Darcy had fretted that Amada would turn out mean somehow, when she’d been a baby. The reveal that her father was Crossbones had made Darcy paranoid. But Amada--despite her rambunctiousness--was unfailingly gentle with animals and smaller kids. She watched as her daughter smiled up at Brock Rumlow. Darcy took a shaky breath and willed herself not to weep. Just then, Brock looked at her. His expression turned instantly. A moment later, he was wheeling Amada towards her. “What’s wrong?” he said.

“Are you okay, Mommy?” Amada said, frowning.

“Yeah, you guys were just so cute, I got emotional,” Darcy said, playing off her weepiness. “So adorbs!”

“You sure?” Brock said.

“Of course!” Darcy said. “What did you have?”

“Apple pie,” Amada said. “It was really good.”

“Apple pie?” Darcy said.

“Cheddar in the crust,” Brock said. “C’mon, we’ll get you one.”

“Okay,” Darcy said. She tried to control her face. The mini apple pie with cheddar was delicious. They’d done several more booths and Amada had gone to sleep in her stroller when Brock looked at her. She was pushing the stroller now.

“You wanna tell me what that’s really about?” he said. Darcy sighed. 

“I saw you and her having a good time and got a little sad that she doesn't have a dad. She’ll never have that with her father,” she said.

“Yeah,” he said. They walked for a few steps, but then Brock stopped and turned to face Darcy.

“What is it?” she asked. He put his hand on her arm, then withdrew it. Darcy watched as he hesitated and took a deep breath. He tilted his head, as if he couldn't meet her eyes, and looked somewhere over her shoulder. 

“She could have that with me,” he said finally. His voice was quiet. 

“What?” Darcy said.

“A father. A stepfather, technically,” Brock said, “but nobody’d need to know that unless she wanted ‘em to.” Darcy stared at him. “You brought up getting married,” he said defensively. “We get married, then she has me.”

“Seriously?” she said, trying to process what he was saying.

“You said it,” he said. Darcy realized his neck was flushed. He blinked. She looked at him. “Or just live together?” he added.

“You really would? You like us both that much?” she said. At the sound of her voice, he smiled slowly.

“Yeah,” he said. “I want you both in my life.” Darcy stared at him, torn between surprise and delight for a moment. Then she stepped into his arms, trying not cry like a freak at the weird joy she felt. “I'm beginning to get jealous of this guy, though,” Brock said in her ear. She pulled back and looked at him incredulously.

“Really?” she said.

“You’re obviously still emotionally attached,” he said, swallowing. 

“Oh,” Darcy said. “Well, yeah, but not to the real him.” At Brock’s perplexed expression, she went on. “He never knew about her. It was a...fling. He left before I found out I was pregnant. Was MIA and everything.”

“Oh,” Brock said, rubbing his jaw. They started walking again.

“I used to pretend to talk to him. When I was pregnant. Like a mock discussion of my ultrasounds and my birth plan and stuff,” she said. “That probably sounds crazy, but he was, um, always really supportive and positive. In my imagination.” She blinked a little, unable to keep her voice from wavering again.

“Your imagination,” he said softly. He reached out and rested a hand over hers on the stroller handle.

“Yeah,” Darcy said. “I can never reconcile the fact he was a violent criminal with the guy I imagined in my head. I used to worry about her, that she’d end up with anger issues or something, but she’s not like that at all.”

“No,” Brock said. “She’s got a mean hold, but not a bad personality.” He grinned.

“Oh God, you’re going to encourage that, aren’t you?” she said.

“If you let me,” he said.

“How could I stop you? I’m outnumbered here, surrounded by the well-coordinated,” Darcy said. She stopped again, next to a table of hand-carved wooden cheese trays. “Are you sure? Sure you want this? Strollers and pre-K and cheese festivals?” she said. “A boring American life?” He started to laugh.

“You really don’t know, do you?” he said. 

“No, I don’t get it,” she said. “You’re single, you can have anything.” She stressed the last word. “You want me? And my kid?” she asked quietly. He chuckled wryly.

“I keep trying to tell you that,” Brock said. "I've spent the last decade working for SHIELD or going to the gym. I've never felt like I could have a life outside work. Until I heard you were back." Darcy looked at him.

“You could be in, I dunno, New York for the weekend, you realize that, right?” she said. “Doing something really fun?”

“Oh, yeah,” he said. “That reminds me. You want to go next weekend? We could take the train. I’d like you to meet my mother,” he said. 

“Okay,” Darcy said nervously.

“Don’t look so worried,” Brock said. “She’ll love you.” He put his arm around her shoulder.

“You say that now,” Darcy said, leaning in.

“I love you,” he said.

“I love you, too,” she whispered, practically falling into his arms as he kissed her temple, then her cheek, and finally, her mouth. A guy pushing a cart of wine and cheese samples looked at them oddly. 

***

_Also 2020_

_New York City_

Jane was walking across the lobby of the Avengers floor on Sunday afternoon--eyes glued to the work emails on her phone--when she heard a familiar voice. “It’s soooo good to see you,” Helen Cho gushed. Jane realized the other woman was beaming at Thor and walking towards them.

“Are you well, Doctor?” Thor said cheerfully.

“Very well,” Cho said, clearly blushing. Then it must’ve dawned on her that Jane was glaring in her direction, because her expression fell. “Oh, hello, Dr. Foster.”

“Dr. Cho,” Jane said. “I hear your work is groundbreaking.”

“Oh,” Helen said. “Thank--thank you.”

“Our friend Brock of the Rumlows speaks highly of you,” Thor said. “He says you have healed him.”

“Oh, that’s nice to hear,” Helen said. “How is he?”

“Good,” Jane said. “Very good.”

“He’s really my star case, it’s a shame SHIELD classified all his Crossbones stuff,” Helen said.

“Wh-what?” Jane said.

“No one outside SHIELD knows he was even burned, you know?” Helen mused.

“He was burned?” Jane said, feeling the floor go soft under her feet.

“At Triskelion,” Helen said. “But they hushed up all his Crossbones work as a fake mercenary, so, what can I do?”

“Jane?” Thor said. “Are you all right?” 

“She’s fainting!” Helen yelled.


	8. New Rituals

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *I own nothing! All credit for the Brock & Steve conversation goes to Duchess007, who envisioned it.

_Still 2020,_

_New York City_

Jane Foster opened her eyes. Monitors were beeping and rustling with air. She was in the medical wing at Avengers Tower. Her head was pounding. “Ow,” she said. “Double ow.” Gingerly, she touched her head. There was a knot. She had fainted. Brock was Crossbones, she remembered. Which meant that he was Amada’s father. Jane needed to tell Darcy. She looked around the room. She didn’t see her clothes--or more crucially, her phone. She was just wearing one of those humiliating medical gowns. Except this one said SI. Thor was sleeping in a chair. “Thor!” she said. Her voice came out cracked and dry. “Thor!” His eyes opened slowly. Then he returned to alertness. 

“Jane? How do you feel?” he asked tenderly. “You have fainted.”

“I need a phone,” she said. 

“Oh,” he said, smile falling. “I--I don’t have a phone.” His voice was sad.

“Shit,” Jane said. “Find somebody with one, okay?”

“What is the emergency, my Jane?” Thor said, not comprehending. He didn’t know the whole Crossbones situation, Jane remembered. They’d been on a tiny break when Crossbones died.

“It’s Brock, he’s Crossbones and Amada’s father,” Jane explained. “It’s complicated, but we thought Crossbones was dead. Helen had just healed him.”

“Oh,” Thor said. “So, Amada’s father is not dead?”

“Very much alive,” Jane said, still feeling stunned. Thor rubbed her arm gently. “I can’t believe he’s alive,” she repeated.

“That does tend to happen,” Thor said. “My brother never fails to surprise me. Don’t be anxious, Jane.”

“I need to call Darcy,” Jane said. 

“I will find Steve, he shall have a phone,” Thor said seriously. Jane watched him leave her hospital bedside with a fretful expression. How was she going to explain this to Darcy in a way that made any damn sense? Darcy would think she’d lost her entire mind. But he was Amada’s father.  
  


“Thor!” Steve called, when he found the other man. The Asgardian turned and beamed. “We’ve got a mission call,” Steve said.

“I was looking for you,” Thor said. “My Jane is in need of a phone.”

“Helen Cho told me she had a fainting spell, so if you need to stay with her, I think we’ve got enough other people on the team?” Steve offered.

“I think I shall,” Thor said. “I can always arrive with Mjolnir if I am needed?”

“Good. Here,” Steve said. He passed Thor his phone. Thor beamed at the tiny device. “I’ll call you if we need a hand,” Steve said, grinning. Thor nodded.

“Thank you,” Thor said. He looked at Steve. “Jane will be happy. Did you know that Crossbones was the natural father of my niece? Darcy’s daughter?” he said, looking unaccountably pleased. “And alive all this time?” he added.

“Brock Rumlow?” Steve said, raising an eyebrow. That was a genuine surprise.

“The very same man!” Thor said, beaming.

“I suppose that makes sense,” Steve said, thinking of Rumlow’s pained expression in Lagos. Steve’s eidetic memory reminded him that Rumlow had asked if he could see anyone. Darcy’s girl was probably a baby then. They did look alike; everyone said so. Steve was surprised no one had discovered it before, but Rumlow must’ve followed Fury’s rules very carefully.

“Thank you,” Thor repeated, clapping Steve on the shoulder and calling his mind to the present. 

“You’re welcome,” Steve said. Captain America walked away wondering how long Darcy and Rumlow had been secretly involved. Years, probably. They might’ve even met before he left the ice. How funny.

_***_

_The same time, roughly...._

_Washington, DC_

“Where are you going?” Darcy muttered, opening one eye. Brock was getting dressed beside the bed.

“Sorry,” he said, pausing. “Didn’t mean to wake you, sweetheart. Got called in for a mission.”

“Oh,” Darcy said, half sitting up. He looked very appealling, half-dressed. She mock-pouted. “You look yummy. Don’t leave me!” she joked. He smiled.

“I’m coming back,” he said, smirking. “As soon as I can.”

“Can’t they call Avengers?” Darcy said, rolling over on her side. “Thor’s planet-side, where’s Steve? I wanna keep you.”

“Steve’s in New York, but he’s meeting us,” Brock said. He kissed her gently. She squeezed him. Brock laughed. “So,” he said in a low voice, “you wouldn’t mind if I took this training job Fury’s offered me, huh?”

“What?” Darcy said.

“I’d be home all the time, training new agents,” he said. “Would you get sick of me?”

“Nope,” she said. “Not even a little bit.” She patted his flat stomach and swirled her fingers over his abs.

“I’m going to try not to wake her,” Brock said. He meant Amada. They’d carefully told her that Brock wanted to be her dad. She had--to their shared relief--gotten really excited. Even asked about adoption. She was going around telling everyone they talked to that he was going to be her "real daddy when they did the paperwork."

“We’ll go in and see her, though,” Darcy said. “New ritual.”

“New ritual?” he said.

“You kiss both of us goodbye before you leave for work,” Darcy said. 

“I like that,” he said. When he kissed Amada, she stirred briefly, but didn’t wake. Darcy walked him to the door, kissed him enthusiastically, and held onto him for a second. “I’m getting you a better lock,” he said. 

“Uh-huh,” Darcy said. They’d decided it was less disruptive for him to sell his place and move in with them for the time being.

“Get some rest,” he said. 

“You still want all this?” she said, gesturing to the kids toys in the living room and her “Mug Life” nightshirt.

“Oh yeah,” he said. “Lock the door, okay?”

“Mmmm-hmm,” Darcy said, giving him another lingering kiss.

She locked the door as instructed, then stumbled back to bed. Twenty minutes later, Darcy’s phone rang. “Mhelllo?” she mumbled.

“Darcy?” Jane said. “Wake up. We need to talk. I have news.”

“Huh?”

“It’s Amada’s father,” Jane said. “Brock is Amada’s father.”

“What?” Darcy said, sitting bolt upright. She’d heard Jane wrong, obviously.

“Helen Cho is here,” Jane said. “She healed him--”

“I know,” Darcy said. “He told me--he told me Helen did something--but what do you mean, he’s Amada’s father?”

“He’s Crossbones, Darce,” Jane said. “Brock Rumlow is Crossbones.”

“--he’s _Crossbones?_ How? How is that possible?” Darcy said. “I would know if--” she began, but then had a moment of doubt. They’d barely known each other back then. A day at most?

“Didn’t you have weird flashbacks? And he acts like he’s known you a long time,” Jane said. “Think about it. And look at that Nigeria video again?”

“Holy shit,” Darcy said, scrambling for her laptop. She was crying to Jane by the time she’d found and rewatched the years-old news footage online. “It’s him, it’s him,” she said. “Oh my God. Oh my God.”

  
  
  


***

_A SHIELD quinjet_

_Sometime between Tuesday and Wednesday_

_Exact Date and Location Classified_

“You think a four year old is too young to help pick out a ring?” Brock said quietly to Jack. He was studying his phone as they headed home.

“What?” Jack said.

“Darcy and I are getting married,” Brock said. He smiled. “Nothing’s set in stone, but I’m finally getting to be with her, Jack.”

“I’m happy for you, mate,” Jack said, squeezing the other man’s shoulder. He got up to check something with Romanoff and left a smiling Brock looking at rings. As he sat, Steve Rogers walked into the bay. “Hi, Cap,” Brock said, only half paying attention. Steve stopped and looked at Rumlow. He sighed and ran a hand over his blond hair.

“I’ve been thinking. I wanted to say I’m sorry. I can understand you not trusting me enough to tell me you had a daughter back then, you know. No hard feelings,” Steve said.

“What?” Brock said. He had only half-heard Steve say something about the past.

“Back in Lagos. I know you felt like I didn’t trust you and that’s on me,” Steve said. “I’d love to meet your little girl someday.”

“Amada?” Rumlow said, assuming Cap had talked to Jack or Romanoff. “That’d be nice, Cap. Maybe we can all have dinner sometime.”

“Good,” Steve said. “I’d like that.”

“Yeah,” Rumlow said. “I’m looking at rings for Darcy.”

“That’s great,” Steve said. He looked at the screen Rumlow flashed in his direction and whistled. “Not cheap.”

“What’d they do in your day?” Rumlow asked conversationally.

“Gold bands, mostly,” Steve said. “If anybody had any money at all.”

“Gold bands,” Rumlow said. He rubbed his jaw. “That’s nice. Traditional.” He smiled happily. “I’m looking forward to having the family life I always wanted, Cap.”

  
  


When the quinjet landed and the ramp opened, Brock realized Darcy was standing inside the glass doors that led to the quinjet landing pad. She looked upset. “I’ll meet you at debrief,” he said to Cap. Steve nodded and Brock thudded down the ramp. As he got closer, she could see Darcy had been crying. She was crying now. Sobbing openly. His heart rate sped up. Something must be wrong with Amada. As he got closer, she opened the door and stepped out. 

“Hi,” she said.

“What’s wrong? Is Amada sick?” he said, reaching for her.

“No,” Darcy said, shaking her head as she sobbed. “She’s fine. Jane and Thor came back. She’s in the lab. I was worried about you.”

“Me?” he said. She was touching him as if he wasn’t real. 

“I was so paranoid, afraid you’d die on this mission,” she said. “Because that could’ve happened. Isn’t that what happens when people are finally happy and in love in the movies? I thought you were dead, Brock, and I missed you so much, I want you to know that. All these years.”

“What?” Brock said. “Darcy, you aren’t making sense, honey.”

“I know,” Darcy said, clinging to him. “Shhh, just let me explain, okay?” She gave him a tearful smile. “I still can’t believe it. It’s so wonderful and strange.”

“Okay,” he said, nodding. “Explain everything.”

“When Amada was a baby, I was fighting with the stupid breast pump--”

“The breast pump?” he said.

“Shhh, let me finish,” Darcy said, putting a finger over his mouth. “Jane saw Steve on the news. In Nigeria. Fighting you. I saw you die,” she said.

“Oh fuck,” he mouthed, feeling like he’d been hit by a two by four. _She’d seen that. He’d never thought about her seeing him on television._ He held her closer. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“Yeah,” she said slowly. “I thought the guy I met in Spain was gone.”

“Shit,” he said, tucking her against him. “They wouldn’t let me see anybody. I’m sorry, baby.” He kissed the top of her head. He held her for a long moment.

“Yeah,” Darcy said. She looked up at him with damp eyes. “Speaking of babies, we have a baby.”

“Huh?” he said.

“Amada is your baby,” she told him. “I found out I was pregnant after Spain. She’s your daughter.”

“What?” he said, feeling like the world was spinning. “She’s--she’s mine? Mine?”

“Yeah,” Darcy said, starting to sob again. “She’s our daughter.” They stood together and cried for several minutes. SHIELD agents looked at them oddly. Darcy didn’t care. Finally, he inhaled deeply. 

“Does she know?” he asked.

“I had to tell her when I sort of fell apart and started sobbing hysterically,” Darcy said. “She’s thrilled.” He smiled gently. “You want to go see your daughter?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he said. He kept holding her, though. They were sort of holding each other up. “You didn’t realize I was him a few months ago?” he said, as they walked down to the lab back then.

“Nope,” she said and shook her head. “No clue.”

“You didn’t recognize me at all?” he said, starting to grin. 

“You had a totally different face!” she said, smiling through her tears.

“Uh-huh,” he said. 

“Seducing tourists who are helpless to resist your--”

“Scars and evident sketchiness?” he said.

“Your finger cymbals and your charisma,” she said. “I loved you then.” She reached up to push back his hair. The bracelet she was wearing caught his eye.

“You kept my stupid little presents?” he said.

“And your baby,” Darcy said, leaning against his chest.

“I didn’t want to leave you,” he said in a low voice. “But I wasn’t safe to be around.”

“I know,” she said. “I’m not mad.”

“You’re not?”

“But you could’ve mentioned a name back then,” Darcy said, sniffling. “That would’ve helped a lot.” He cried and laughed at the same time. 

They got off the elevator. Amada was visible through the glass wall. She was coloring. Brock stopped for a second. He gazed at her in delight. “How did I not see it?” he said in wonder.

“I don’t know,” Darcy said. Amada looked up and smiled when they walked in.

“Daddy!” she said. “Mommy said she would bring you!” She hopped up and ran over to hug their knees. Darcy started to sob again. 

“Hi, sweetheart,” he said. “Do you know what’s happened?”

“Yeah,” Amada said. 

“Yeah?” he said.

“You’re my daddy for real already,” Amada said. 

“I know it’s confusing--” he began carefully. Amada nodded.

“I understand,” she said.

“You do?” Brock said. 

“I have a real daddy and mommy won’t stop crying,” she explained. “So we don’t have to do all the paperwork.”

“Paperwork?” Brock said.

“To make you my real daddy. You’d think Mommy would be happy,” she said, frowning.

  
  


***

_Slightly later in 2020..._

_Washington, DC_

  
  


“Okay, we have all the bags,” Darcy said, as Jane dropped them off at Union Station. They were going to meet Brock’s mother in New York. 

“Are you okay?” Jane whispered. They were standing at the car’s trunk. Darcy was visibly shaky.

“Yeahhh no?” Darcy said, pulling a face. She was petrified. Brock hadn’t told her what his mother had said, but Darcy grasped that he’d been ordered to explain how he’d misplaced an entire grandchild for several years. He was getting said child out of her car seat now.

“Daddy, can I have a puppy?” Amada said.

“A puppy? Uhhh,” he said. He looked at Darcy for help.

“No puppy yet!” Darcy yelled. Then she lowered her voice. “She keeps asking him for _everything._ And he says yes all the time!” she whispered to Jane. “She talked to him about piercing her ears and he was on the verge of taking her. I saw the look in his eyes. Am I the tough parent now?” she wondered. Jane glanced over at a pouting Amada. Brock was trying to bribe her with a choice of plush animals.

“Honey, don’t be sad--” he pleaded. Amada’s bottom lip stuck out.

“Yes,” Jane said. “Yes, you are the tough parent now.”

“She told him yesterday that she wants us to get married at Disney,” Darcy said. “With a big carriage. And he has to be the prince.”

“Yeah?” Jane said.

“So, he showed up in his Navy dress uniform and asked if that was fancy enough,” Darcy said, covering her mouth a little to hide her giggle. 

“I bet you like the uniform, though,” Jane teased.

“Mmmm-hmm,” Darcy admitted. “It’s a good look.” She grinned. “I took the starch right out of his dress pants,” she joked. 

“I knew it,” Jane snickered.

“Amada was sad it didn’t have a more colorful coat, she wanted red or blue,” Darcy said. “We’re lucky she doesn’t like _Aladdin_ more or I’d have a wedding dress with visible midriff and harem pants.” 

“And tigers!” Jane said.

“Shh, nobody say tigers,” Darcy half-scolded, laughing. She leaned around the car. “Are you two okay?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Brock said. 

“I do want a puppy,” Amada repeated. “One day.” She sighed. 

“Let’s meet your nonna first, okay?” Brock said. He looked at Darcy and mouthed _help._ Jane, clearly amused, hugged them all goodbye and Amada waved at her.

“Bye, Aunt Jane!” she called out.

“We have time for a snack,” Darcy announced. “Who wants a pastry before their first train trip?”

“I do!” Amada said.

“Okay, we’re hitting Le Pain Quotidien,” Darcy said. She got the bags together. “C’mon, daddy,” she added. Brock swallowed. Amada was looking around at Union Station curiously, so he spoke. 

“You kill me every time you say that,” he said in a low voice.

“You look pretty alive to me,” Darcy teased. He smirked, then eyed her. He was already asking about a second child. Darcy knew she was going to give in. Eventually. Practicing was fun.

“Mommy, can we get the wedding books?” Amada wondered, pointing a magazine stand as they walked through the station. She loved bridal magazines. She liked cutting out pictures with her safety scissors and pasting them in a book that Darcy had gotten her.

“Sure,” Darcy said. “We’ll get some bride magazines.”

“We can, huh?” Brock said.

“She can look at the pictures on the train,” Darcy said calmly.

“It’s not too late to take a train someplace else. Cleveland. Pittsburgh. Someplace more romantic,” Brock begged quietly. Darcy started to laugh. She knew he was kidding.

“If you take me to a really romantic place like Pittsburgh, we’ll definitely end up with a second one,” she told him. “And you’re not ready for that yet.”

“I am,” Brock said. “I’m ready, sweethe--”

“That one! That one, Mommy!” Amada said, pointing to a weddings magazine. 

“Okay, two magazines and a croissant,” Darcy said. She looked at Brock. “You need a little more time. You’re all gooey and spoil-y.”

“I am?” he said.

“Don’t tell me you weren’t going to pierce her ears,” Darcy whispered.

“Oh,” he said. “Yeah.” He sighed. “It’s difficult to say no.”

“Yup,” Darcy said.

Amada was happily settled on the train when Brock leaned over and whispered in Darcy’s ear. “She’s humming,” he said. Amada was flipping pages in her magazine. She’d insisted on eating her croissant and drinking her juice and then very carefully cleaning her hands before she began with the magazines.

“She hums when she scrapbooks, it’s a me thing,” Darcy said. Amada looked up.

“Can I have my posties?” she asked.

“Yup,” Darcy said, going into her messenger.

“Posties?” Brock said.

“Post It flags,” Darcy said, handing them to Amada.

“Thank you,” Amada said. She busied herself with her magazine. Brock peered over.

“She just flagged a Sandals resort ad,” he said.

“She likes pictures of the ocean,” Darcy explained. Amada hummed and flipped a page.

“A Disney beach wedding?” he wondered.

“Possibly,” Darcy said, shrugging. “She could change her mind.”

“Ooooh,” Amada said. 

“What do you like?” Brock asked curiously. He leaned forward again.

“No peeking, Daddy!” she told him. “Surprise!”

“Okay,” he said, holding his hands up in surrender. 

“What does your mother think of me?” Darcy asked.

“She’s going to love you, I promise,” Brock said. “Both of you, just like I do.”

“Uh-huh,” Darcy said, taking a deep breath.

“I’m the one in trouble here,” Brock said. He took her hand, then smiled gently at Amada. 

“Happy?” Darcy said.

“Very,” he said, leaning over to kiss Darcy’s forehead.

-The End-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all your comments on this fic! I really enjoyed writing it.


End file.
